


Her Station Keeping

by tryptophan



Series: Aftermath [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Catholic Character, Catholicism, Gen, Matt's mom has issues, The Defenders (Marvel TV) Spoilers, Unreliable Narrator, which she might've passed on to her son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 01:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11957109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryptophan/pseuds/tryptophan
Summary: At the Cross her station keeping,stood the mournful Mother weeping,close to her Son to the last.Sister Maggie keeps her vigil at her son's bedside and reflects on their lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Matt's mother is a nun, and Catholicism is integral to her life. It's a large part of how she relates to the world, and the way she processes her impending reunion with her son is no exception.
> 
> This is the most Catholic thing I've written, and looking over my works here, that's saying something. It goes into detail about how Catholicism is practiced, but not really into the dogma. 
> 
> I did write a sermon, quite by accident. Don't worry, no hellfire, brimstone or condemnation here. 
> 
> This is part three of four for this series. I will probably publish a fifth part which will be odds and ends. I accidentally wrote the entire story of what Maggie did between getting pregnant and the present, and I have a Daredevil Punisher vignette that is a little too silly to include in part 4. Subscribe to the series if you want to be notified when those go live.

_How did I end up here?_

Sister Maggie drew up a chair next to her son’s bed. His broken body had turned up on the steps to the shelter her convent ran. A woman who was nearly as battered as he accompanied him, but she wouldn’t stick around. So, they brought him in and made him comfortable. Sister St. Clemence, their resident nurse practitioner, ensured none of his injuries were life-threatening or required surgery. Beyond that, it was a matter of ensuring he was cared for and made as comfortable as possible. They would have to wait until he woke up to find out what really happened.

She had come clean. With the permission of the Reverend Mother, she explained to her sisters who the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was and how he related to her. Her secret was now the biggest gossip and scandal of the day, even more than the fact that convent was nursing the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen back to health. She was reminded of a quote from St. Theresa of Avila: “I am more afraid of one unhappy sister than a crowd of evil spirits.” Her sisters were women yearning for holiness. They were trying their best, but they were still human. Little grudges and passive aggression still reared their ugly heads. There was some resentment from women who understood the sacrifices the religious life required but still pined for a child. There was tut-tutting from sisters who thought she was getting special treatment, and that she always got special treatment. For the most part, though, everyone was genuinely compassionate, though some of that compassion swung too far into patronizing pity for her taste. 

She vowed to attend to her son as much as her schedule allowed. The Reverend Mother had shifted things so she was as free as possible, but she still had obligations, still had to eat, sleep, and shower, so others were on duty, too. 

After ensuring that his wounds were clean, his bandages fresh, and he was physically comfortable, she took her rosary from her pocket and started to pray. It wasn’t officially part of it, but it was her personal devotion to start it with a recitation of the Magnificat. 

_My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,_  
_my spirit rejoices in God my Savior_  
_for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant._  
_From this day all generations will call me blessed:_  
_the Almighty has done great things for me,_  
_and holy is his Name._  
  
_He has mercy on those who fear him_  
_in every generation._  
_He has shown the strength of his arm,_  
_he has scattered the proud in their conceit._  
  
_He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,_  
_and has lifted up the lowly._  
_He has filled the hungry with good things,_  
_and the rich he has sent away empty._  
  
_He has come to the help of his servant Israel_  
_for he remembered his promise of mercy,_  
_the promise he made to our fathers,_  
_to Abraham and his children forever._

Traditional interpretation of it was that of a demure vessel acquiescing to God’s plan of her having a divine child. The voice she heard in that passage was one of a tearful, defiant seventeen year old girl who found herself in a family way with no good explanation for it. This girl knew she’d catch shit from everyone, but she also knew that her baby was the most precious thing in the world. She was defiantly proclaiming her faith, everyone else be damned. 

Maggie proclaimed her faith on the crucifix, said an Our Father at the first bead, followed it up with three rapid fire Hail Marys, then a Glory Be, and finally the declaration of the first mystery.  

**_Annunciation_**. _Mary learns that she has been chosen to be the mother of Jesus._ Luke 1:28-38 

Her fingers found the first bead. _Hail Mary, full of grace…_ Her mind began to wander, meditating on a young woman discovering she was pregnant. 

She stared at the kit. The good people at e.p.t. made a home pregnancy test kit, which was nice because it didn’t require knocked up seventeen year-olds to go to a doctor and sacrifice a rabbit. It looked like a little chemistry experiment, and she idly thought it was fortunate that she was getting good grades in that. She read the instructions, and then read them again and then once more for good measure. Two hours later, the chemicals told her that her life was about to be upended. Seventeen and pregnant, not yet out of high school, dating a boy from the block who wanted to be a boxer. Her Catholic mother would kill her if she asked for an abortion, but then again her Catholic mother would kill her for getting knocked up out of wedlock, and there was no way she could give her baby away to strangers to raise. She’d been seeing Jack for a few months. It was fun. They weren’t serious, not really. They were in no fit state to raise a child. 

She double and triple checked the results of the test against the instructions. Positive. 

_Shit_ , she thought. 

Maggie reached the last bead of the decade. She moved to the short length of chain, said her Glory Be, then an Our Father on the next bead, and moved on to the next decade. 

**_Visitation_**. _Mary visits her cousin, Elizabeth_. Luke 1:40-42

She went to the Village to visit her cousin, Liz. Liz was a modern woman. She was old, almost thirty, and living on her own in the city. She wasn’t married and didn’t care to be. When Maggie needed advice that’s where she went, because Liz would calmly help her unpack a problem without the yelling and screaming and hitting she’d get if she asked her mother about touchy subjects.

“Mags!” Liz greeted her with a hug. “What bring you down this way?”

“I need help,” she replied, falling into the hug.

Liz pulled back and took in her cousin’s appearance. No makeup, hair not done, red puffy eyes. “Shit, Mags, what’s wrong?” She ushered Maggie to her kitchen table and made her sit while she made coffee.

Maggie slumped forward onto the table and rested her head on her arms. “I’m pregnant.” She choked back a sob.

Liz sat across the table from her and covered Maggie’s hands with her own. “Jack?”

“Yepf” came the muffled response.

“Does he know?”

Maggie shook her head.

“What are you going to do?”

“What _can_ I do?!” she sobbed. “I don’t have a job, I’m not married. I’m still in high school. Mom’ll kill me if I get an abortion, and I can’t bear the thought of giving it up for adoption.”

“Do you want an abortion?” Liz asked gently.

“Maybe. No. I don’t know.”

“Do you love Jack?”

Maggie nodded.

“Will you be safe if he finds out you’re pregnant?” Liz asked delicately.

“Of course!” Maggie protested. “Just because he’s a boxer doesn’t mean he’s mean. He’s always sweet to me.”

“You should tell him. When you know his reaction, then you can decide what to do. We both know your mom isn’t going to react well no matter what you decide, but I’ve got your back. If it comes to it, I’ll pay for the abortion.” She slid a box of Kleenex towards her cousin. “Stay the night. I’ll phone your mom and let her know you’ll be here.”

Maggie gave her smile of gratitude. Things always seemed clearer when her cousin explained them.

**_Nativity_ ** Jesus is born in a stable in Bethlehem. Luke 2:7

“Cab! CAB!” Jack bellowed.

“Jack, the hospital’s just a few blocks away,” she puffed between contractions.

“You’re in labor!” he shouted.

“It’s early labor. I can walk,” she snapped.  She steadfastly set out in the direction of Metro General, and Jack had no choice but to follow.

They made it in plenty of time. _First one takes some time_ , the nurse informed them. They stuck her in a bed and got her as comfortable as possible. While she was in the midst of it, it seemed like it took forever, but when it was all over, when they placed the red, wrinkled, swaddled child into her arms, it felt like it was all over in an instant, and that she would endure it a hundred times over just for the opportunity to look at his face and smell his head. “It’s a boy, so he’s Matthew,” she announced to the room. They’d finally let Jack back in, who’d worked himself into a lather listening to the screams and then the silence between Maggie’s screams before Matthew had let out is first cry.

He gazed down on his son. “Matthew,” he echoed, reverently stroking the child’s cheek with one finger. “Matt. Matty. I’m your dad, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life. We don’t have a lot to give you, but we have love.”

When they’d both had some time to recover, it was time for the meet and greet. First her mother, who’d warmed slightly to Jack and begrudgingly accepted the child (he was her only grandchild, after all), came to visit. Then Jack’s uncle, then her cousins, then some of her friends from high school, the ones who hadn’t shunned her for being pregnant out of wedlock. They brought toys and clothes and trinkets for the baby.

Liz handed her an envelope. “Just a little something for the baby.”

She read the papers. “You started him a college account?!”

“He’s gonna be smart like you. He’ll need it someday.”

“Thanks, Liz,” she whispered through tears.

**_Presentation in the Temple_** _Mary and Joseph take the infant Jesus to the Temple to present him to God._ Luke 2:22-24

They stood near the altar where the priest had set a bowl of water, a towel, and chrism oil.

“What name have you given your child?” Father Sessions asked.

“Matthew Michael Murdock,” she replied in a timorous voice. She thought his initials would be a little silly, but they were honoring their grandfathers. Besides, she liked the names. Matthew meant “gift from God.” This child was her gift. When she looked at him she felt an all-consuming love. It burned so intensely she thought she might cry or vomit.  Michael was after St. Michael, the archangel who cast the devil out of Heaven. Her mom always said the Murdock boys had the devil in them, so maybe this would ward off the trouble that plagued Jack’s family.

“What do you ask of God’s Church for Matthew?”

“Baptism,” she whispered.

“Jonathan and Margaret, you have asked to have your child baptized. In doing so, you are accepting the responsibility of training Matthew in the practice of the faith. It will be your duty to bring Matthew up to keep God’s commandments as Christ taught us by loving God and our neighbor. Do you clearly understand what you are undertaking?”

“We do,” she replied, with Jack echoing a split second later.

She spaced out for the rest of the ceremony, giving the answers she’d learned by rote without really hearing. She was fixated on her infant. Her love for him burned intensely, but she started to fear that something bad would happen to him. What if his godparents dropped him? What if the priest got water in his nose and mouth and he drowned? What if they were hit by a car on the way home from the church? What if the Soviets made good on the cold war threats and nuked New York? She needed to hold him, to protect him, so nothing bad could happen. Her joyous love soured into something more frantic.

“I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Fr. Sessions poured a tiny rivulet of water over Matthew’s head.

“Amen,” she whispered and greedily took her infant son back in her arms. He was a good baby and slept through the whole affair, looking cherubic, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Which he didn’t, she supposed. She looked up at Jack as the prepared to depart.

“Want me to take him?” he offered.

“No!” she snapped. “I mean, he’s no trouble. He doesn’t weigh hardly anything.”

Jack’s forehead creased in concern. “Sure, Maggie. Whatever you want.” He gently guided her out of the church, his hand at the small of her back.

She looked down at Matthew’s sleeping face. No one could protect him like she could. Her instinct to protect rose and turned into anxiety, which soured into desperate fear. She clutched him tighter to her breast. They were to return to her mother’s place, where they’d have a light lunch with the relatives and godparent to celebrate the christening. “Let’s go.” 

**_Finding him in the Temple_** _Jesus is found in the Temple discussing his faith with the teachers_ Luke 2:41-52

Maggie squeezed into a pew with a dozen of her Sisters. She'd been granted permission to attend Matt's Confirmation Mass. She’d been out of the country on missions for the past several years and hadn’t had occasion to see her son in that time.

She'd had no part in his upbringing except watching from afar as much as she was permitted to. She had ceded parental rights when he was a baby. Postpartum psychosis and severe clinical depression combined with her fervent desire to become a nun precluded her from being Matty's mother. 

The priest brought the candidates before the bishop. Matty and his classmates rose to approach, and their sponsors followed. Most of the kids had a godparent or cousin or other close family friend standing as sponsor, but the handful from the orphanage mostly had one of the Sisters standing behind them. Matty's godparents weren’t around anymore. His godfather, one of Jack's friends, was gone. They weren’t even sure if he was alive or dead. He'd been on a long slide into drugs and crime, and they'd lost touch before Matty started school. His godmother, her cousin Liz, had been killed in a car accident shortly after Matty was born. Thus, one of the Sisters was standing behind him. 

Maggie listened to the children announce the Confirmation names they'd chosen. The bishop was knowledgeable and quick on his feet. He acknowledged each saint and made a nice comment about their choice. When Matty's turn came, she leaned forward so she wouldn't miss it. 

"What name have you chosen?"

"Thomas More," he responded clearly. 

The bishop smiled and nodded. "Martyr. Patron saint of lawyers. He'd give the devil the benefit of the law.”

Once all of the candidates had been presented, the bishop started his homily.

"Chronos and Kairos.” He pointed at the first pews, where the kids were seated. “You all know what those are, right?” Vague murmurs of acknowledgement filled the nave. “For all the parents here today who haven't had this hammered in to them in Sophmore religion this year,” he paused to let the chuckling subside, “those are Greek words for time. Why have two words for time? Well, they mean very different things. The kids are familiar with this explanation: chronos is when you ask someone what time it is and they say,” he checked his watch, “'11:35.' Kairos is when they tell you 'time to get a watch.'

“Physics tells us it's the fourth dimension. It’s an immutable part of our reality. Length, width, height, time. We live by time. We are governed by when it’s time to wake up, when it's time to eat, when it's time to go to school, when it's time to go to 2nd period, 3rd period, lunch, when it's time for sports practice and music lessons. There are week days and the weekend. The start of the school year, the end of the school year. Birth and death. 

“What’s this have to do with God? We're told that with God, with Heaven, time moves differently. Some will say that God views all time as now. Or maybe all of time could exist in a second for God. It's a concept that our brains have trouble with because we're such slaves to time. But to help us out, God entered into time with us in the person of Jesus Christ. God understood how necessary a relationship with us through chronos time was. But I’m inclined to think that kairos is the time that God moves in. Things happen at the appropriate time, not because the clock says it’s a certain time. Such is with the sacraments.

“During the Easter vigil mass a few weeks ago, we welcomed new catechumens into the Catholic faith. Men and women who were seeking a deeper relationship with God and saw that it was the right time in their lives to make this choice. They received baptism if they weren't already baptized, Eucharist, and confirmation. You young men and women standing before me, however, were all baptized as children, most of you as infants. So, why weren't you confirmed then? The vows you will swear in a few minutes are identical to the baptismal vows someone answered in your stead back then; surely they could've fulfilled the responses for your confirmation, too. Indeed, in the eastern Catholic churches, baptism and confirmation of infants are still performed together. So why does the Latin rite, our church, separate them?

“Some people think of confirmation as a Catholic altar call. 'You're able to make adult decisions; decide whether you want to reaffirm your Catholic faith.' An infant baptized before they can control their own drool isn’t capable of understanding the complexities of theology or of positively assenting to the points of the Nicene creed.

“There's truth in both. Confirmation is viewed as a sacrament of maturity. It is the fullness of the promises of baptism, and our earthly little brains need time to process what that means. So, we're given time. For you, it quite literally means growing up. For converts, it's the discernment process leading up to their baptism and confirmation. Much as the sacrifice of the Eucharist isnot made anew at each mass, but rather a continuation of the one true sacrifice made at Calvary, the grace bestowed at confirmation is not a new event, but a continuation of that which was begun at baptism. And while I'm sure God could, and does, bestow the graces of baptism and confirmation now and at all times, we who exist in time need God to relate to us in time, too. On this Sunday in May, you will be confirmed in the Catholic Church. Chronos. But it’s also the _right_ time. Kairos.

“Now, this doesn't mean you've learned everything there is to know about God or Christ or Catholicism, but it does signal your growth as a Christian. Just as your education won't be over when you graduate from high school, or college, or even graduate school, if you choose that path. Life is your education, and just as you will continue to grow and learn until you die, so too will you continue to grow in Christ after this date, hopefully also until the day of your death."

The bishop sat for a moment and let silence wash over the congregation.  When it was time, he stood again and continued the liturgy.

"The same promises made in your stead at your baptism are reaffirmed at your confirmation. Let us now renew those promises.

"Do you renounce Satan,   
and all his works,  
and all his empty show?"  


"I do," chorused the candidates.  
"Do you believe in God,   
the Father almighty,  
Creator of heaven and earth?"  


"I do."

"Do you believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord  
who was born of the Virgin Mary,  
suffered, died, and was buried,  
who rose again from the dead  
and is seated at the right hand of the Father?"  


"I do."

"Do you believe in the Holy Spirit,  
the Lord, the giver of life,  
who came upon the Apostles at Pentecost  
and today is given to you sacramentally in Confirmation?"  


"I do."

"Do you believe in the holy Catholic Church,  
the communion of saints,  
the forgiveness of sins,  
the resurrection of the body,  
and life everlasting?"  


She closed her eyes to focus on the sound of his voice. He was two pews in front of her, and she could just make it out when he replied "I do."

"God our Father, you sent your Holy Spirit upon the Apostles, and through them and their successors you give the Spirit to your people. May his work begun at Pentecost continue to grow in the hearts of all who believe. Through Christ our Lord. Amen."

She still had her attention trained on her son, and heard him piously murmur “amen” in response.

Maggie’s heart swelled with love for her child. She’d given him what she could. She kept Jack’s final winnings and the little other money he possessed largely intact. It would be enough to pay for some of his college. She’d pulled strings to get him into St. Agnes, where he would be warm and safe and fed. She got him into the school, too, which was going to help him secure college admissions. She’d cared for him when she was permitted to, when he most needed her. The first time was right after his accident. She visited him in the hospital to calm him down. The second time was shortly after he entered the orphanage. His senses were out of control and he’d hurt himself trying to cope. Again, she came and tended to him. It wasn’t anything near what he deserved, but such was the imperfect world.

She finished her final Hail Mary and resurfaced from the memories with tears on her cheeks. She said a Hail Holy Queen perfunctorily turned her gaze towards her son’s broken body. She allowed herself to take in her surroundings again. The choir was finishing up practice; strains of Ave Verum Corpus filtered in to Matt’s room. She checked her watch. Sr. Josephine would be by soon to relieve her. _Chronos_. God willing, her son would be awake again, and she would speak to him for the first time in decades. _Kairos_.


	2. Notes for Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My annotations for Her Station Keeping got out of hand. Here they are. If I forgot to cover something, just ask. I promise to answer all questions.

Stabat Mater is a poem which meditates on Mary’s thoughts and actions during Jesus’ crucifixion. "Her Station Keeping" comes from the English translation of the first line of the poem. It is often used in the Stations of the Cross (a meditation on the Passion), or the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows. It has many musical settings from a variety of famous composers. Here is a link to the melody the nuns were singing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4US4PSZF278 

Magnificat: Luke 1:46-55

Most people know that the rosary is a set of beads used to count prayers. Rosary 201 is not just reciting the prayers, but announcing a mystery for each decade (set of 10 Hail Marys). There are four sets (the Luminous mysteries were added 15 years ago or so), each of which is an event in the life of Mary and/or Jesus. They are as follows: (From: Loyola Press)

The Joyful Mysteries  
The Annunciation: Mary learns that she has been chosen to be the mother of Jesus.  
The Visitation: Mary visits Elizabeth, who tells her that she will always be remembered.  
The Nativity: Jesus is born in a stable in Bethlehem.  
The Presentation: Mary and Joseph take the infant Jesus to the Temple to present him to God.  
The Finding of Jesus in the Temple: Jesus is found in the Temple discussing his faith with the teachers.

The Mysteries of Light

The Baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan: God proclaims that Jesus is his beloved Son.  
The Wedding Feast at Cana: At Mary’s request, Jesus performs his first miracle.  
The Proclamation of the Kingdom of God: Jesus calls all to conversion and service to the Kingdom.  
The Transfiguration of Jesus: Jesus is revealed in glory to Peter, James, and John.  
The Institution of the Eucharist: Jesus offers his Body and Blood at the Last Supper.

The Sorrowful Mysteries  
The Agony in the Garden: Jesus prays in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night before he dies.  
The Scourging at the Pillar: Jesus is lashed with whips.  
The Crowning with Thorns: Jesus is mocked and crowned with thorns.  
The Carrying of the Cross: Jesus carries the cross that will be used to crucify him.  
The Crucifixion: Jesus is nailed to the cross and dies.

The Glorious Mysteries  
The Resurrection: God the Father raises Jesus from the dead.  
The Ascension: Jesus returns to his Father in heaven.  
The Coming of the Holy Spirit: The Holy Spirit comes to bring new life to the disciples.  
The Assumption of Mary: At the end of her life on earth, Mary is taken body and soul into heaven.  
The Coronation of Mary: Mary is crowned as Queen of Heaven and Earth

This fic follows the structure of the Joyful Mysteries as Maggie contemplates them. 

[Sacrifice a rabbit](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabbit_test) A clinical pregnancy test with high accuracy involved injecting a rabbit with the woman’s urine. The rabbit was later killed and dissected to see if the human chorionic gonadotropin caused the follicles in the rabbit’s ovaries to mature. 

Pregnancy tests of the 80’s, when Maggie would’ve conceived Matt, weren’t the pee sticks sold today. E.P.T produced the first home pregnancy test in 1976 which went on the market in 1977 or 1978. “The e.p.t test of 1978 was described to the public in Mademoiselle: “For your $10,” the article notes, “you get pre-measured ingredients consisting of a vial of purified water, a test tube containing, among other things, sheep red blood cells…as well as a medicine dropper and clear plastic support for the test tube, with an angled mirror at the bottom.” https://history.nih.gov/exhibits/thinblueline/timeline.html

Her cousin Liz: Luke 1:39. Mary visits her cousin Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist. Must've been a good visit, because she stayed for three months. 

Mozart’s setting of Ave Verum Corpus is a beautiful and rightly famous motet. Liturgically, it is intended for the consecration of the Host, though it is often performed as a classical piece on its own. 

The actual text of the rites of baptism and confirmation are used here. Any errors are mine, as I pulled current texts from the internet. Matt would've been baptized in the 80s, and they mucked around with the translation in 2011, so a few things may've changed. 

It is customary in many areas, the US included, for people to choose a saint's name as a confirmation name. Typically one would choose a saint with whom one has a particular fondness, or whose patronage one likes. Thomas More, the [Man for all Seasons](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0060665/?ref_=nv_sr_1) is indeed one of the patron saints of lawyers.

**Author's Note:**

> The annotations for this got bloated. See Chapter 2 for things I thought that might need further explanation. If I forgot to explain something, please just ask and I'll do my best. I'm a cradle Catholic (of questionable adherence), so this is a natural language for me, but probably looks baffling from the outside.


End file.
